A Sith by any Other Name
by Lord Trychon
Summary: A Sith on a quest looking for his fiance gets sidetracked and ends up on a backwater planet with a serious case of amnesia. This is a short story as a subplot of a longer story. Not much of what we've written is mostly standalone as this is, so I thought I'd share.


SITH WANDERERS - A Sith by any Other Name Creative Commons

Sith Wanderers by Erik George and K Rex Maxwell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The shuttle was no where near as fast as the _Jet Razor_, and the trip was taking much longer than the Sith warrior was normally used to. The problem was that when you're a 'respectable businessman' you're not really expected to be flying around the Galaxy in a heavily armored and armed, highly maneuverable starship. Questions were raised, or so his brother constantly reminded him.

So Raezyr was stuck flying around in a luxury shuttle. Actually he wasn't even flying the ship, which would have at least made him somewhat happy. Instead, he was stuck in the passenger compartment while a two man crew flew the ship.

Apparently well-to-do businessmen didn't fly themselves places, either. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that having hirelings on board meant that he was unable to practice lightsaber combat or accessing his holocron. He was reduced to reading and studying tomes if he wanted to continue learning to master the dark side of the Force.

The big Sith sat alone in the passenger lounge, pretending to read his data pad, which currently displayed the text from an ancient Sith tome, a history of Darth Andacon and his exploits which, Raezyr guessed, ended with the Sith Lord dying some horrible death. He had lately noticed that many histories of Sith Lords tended to end the same way, with the servant of the Dark Side finding his or her way to Hell due to some situation the over-confident Sith had put him or herself into.

He was glad that Trychon and he were much more cautious than these fools. Their stories made for good "what not to do" parables.

Raezyr was brought to the present by a sudden change in engine noise. Rather than the usual thrum they normally emitted, a grinding wail now pierced the shuttle.

He reached over and hit the ship's intercom, "Report!"

It took a moment for his call to be answered, and when it did, the annoyance came through as clear as day, "Sir, we're having some minor technical difficulty. We're handling it."

Raezyr had to swallow his retort and remember that the fool had no clue who he was really talking to. As far as the pilot knew, Raezyr was just some upper-class businessman with no real knowledge of ships and such. "Believe it or not, I can be of real use. Please give the details of our situation." It nearly killed him to bite back his real response.

"Sir, something is wrong with the hyperdrive," the man said. "When we attempted to exit hyperspace and change course for the next leg of our trip, the drive jammed into overdrive instead. My co-pilot has gone back to see what he can do." The man's voice sounded calm, but with the Force, Raezyr could sense the panic. He could sense the panic from both of them.

And with good reason, too. The ship had continued on its course, speeding up as well. They were no longer travelling according to any calculated coordinates. Without the proper calculations they could fly through a star or a black hole and that would end their trip pretty quickly.

Raezyr leapt to his feet and began running down the corridor toward the engine room to help the co-pilot. He only made it half-way when an explosion rocked the ship, knocking him to the floor. Heavy metal panels and conduit fell from the ceiling and struck the Sith in the head.

He laid there on the cold durasteel floor, his vision swam for a moment, then went black.

"Well, I guess we'll just continue to call you Jahn Dhoe until your real name comes back to you," Jael Thracen said with a smile.

"What if it doesn't come back?" Jahn said, absentmindedly fingering the scar on his face again.

"Then you can pick a new name, I guess," she replied, putting her hand on his arm reassuringly. "Let's not worry about that right now; Time enough for that later."

The big man surveyed his body, noting the various bandages and studied the cast on his leg for a moment when he suddenly noticed a bit of metal sticking out from the edge of the blanket covering his other foot. He pulled it back and gaped in horror at the metal appendage which was his other leg and foot, all the way up to just above his knee. "What did you do to me?" he asked in disbelief.

"We didn't do that, but it's amazing, isn't it?" Jael said in wonder. "We don't have the technology to do this kind of work here. We've heard of it, but we're so isolated out here that we're lucky to see the random trade ship or freighter but once or twice a year."

"Speaking of 'here'", Jahn asked, "where exactly is 'here' and just how did I get 'here?'"

"You're on a planet called Vondume, located on the edge of the what the Republic calls the 'Unknown Regions,'" she explained, "and as for how you got here, well, once again we were hoping you could tell us. All we know is that your ship crashed."

"My ship? As in space ship?" the patient asked his nurse. "I need to see it. Maybe there's a clue as to what happened."

"Jahn, the ship was completely destroyed in the crash... I'm sorry."

"There has to be something, ship records, computer memory banks, something... I've got to go," he said urgently, once again trying to sit up.

Jael grabbed his shoulders gently. "No, you don't understand. There's nothing." She let that sink in for a moment. "Your ship... Jahn... let me put it to you this way: It was salvagers who found you and rescued you. It's a miracle that you were even alive. Not a single thing came made it through the crash but molten and twisted metal... and you.

"The only thing we know about you is what I've already told you, and the fact that you were delirious when you were found and you said a few things before slipping into a coma," she continued. "You wanted to destroy a child's play vehicle... you kept saying something like, 'Die, bike, die."

"That makes no sense."

"I know."

"Well, I still need to go through the wreckage myself," Jahn told her. "Maybe there's something that will trigger a memory or something."

The dark-skinned woman shook her head sadly. "It's already been salvaged. You were in a coma for seven weeks," she informed him. "I'm so sorry, Jahn, but when I said there was nothing, I really meant it."

The realization of what all of that meant hit him like a wall of duracrete. It meant that he was on a planet in the middle of nowhere, with no one who knew him, and no way of finding out where he had come from. The best that he could hope for was that someone had known he was coming here and would eventually wonder what had happened to him.

A thought rose unbidden to his mind, and he knew as sure as the night was black, that it was the truth. "My brother will come for me."

"Your brother?" Jael said with surprise. "Oh good, you're starting to remember already!"

Jahn shook his head sadly. "No, I don't remember anything about my brother, but deep down, somehow, someway, I know that that statement is the truth."

For the next several weeks, Jael worked with her patient on a daily basis, helping him rehabilitate from his injuries as Jahn's leg wasn't the only thing wrong. The blow to his head had also slightly affected his motor skills, but as she worked with him, they quickly returned to normal.

As the rehab moved along, Jael did her best to explain the way things worked on the planet of Vondume. She told him the planet was colonized about 1500 years ago by some long defunct mining corporation, but when the ore proved to be too low-grade to make it worth transporting from so far out on the Outer Rim they abandoned the project, although not before shipping in several large nerf herds.

When the company decided to leave, many colonists chose to stay thinking that the nerf herds would sustain them, knowing full well that they may never see another freighter from the Republic again. The nerfs didn't do very well in the climate as it was warm, dry and arid, with little water or vegetation, and as ranches failed and farmers failed to grow enough crops in the rocky soil to satisfy their colony, and the number of people who couldn't pay their debts began to grow.

The makeshift government did the only thing they could. They bailed out the people who were in debt, in return for manual labor on government projects, building dams, canals, roads and buildings.

In time, the population grew and a vast gulf began to separate the wealthy from those who had nothing. The government bailout became mandatory once it was determined a person couldn't pay their debts in order to keep the labor force stocked. Rarely did anyone ever pay off their debts and usually died after years of hard labor, indebted to the government. The debtors became little more than indentured servants.

It didn't take long before the rich wanted in on the action too, and the government was only happy to oblige, allowing private citizens to then buy off an individual's debts from the government, thus making the debtor beholden to whichever person or company bought them.

It had all started out innocently, but by the time it was recognized what had truly happened, only the rich were left in charge and there was no way they were going to change it at that stage. The only thing that ever kept the debtors from rising up and revolting was the vegetable dangling on the end of the string, the hope they could one day pay off their debt for good.

The problem was that the few who actually managed to do so quickly found they had worked themselves out of a job and a home and often became destitute, living a miserable existence on the streets or would find a way to get back into debt, just to have somewhere to go.

Jahn couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Legalized slavery?" he asked incredulously. "That's madness."

Jael shrugged. "It's reality. The thing is, it also ensures that people work hard and get an education so they don't end up a debtor."

Jahn agreed that it might have its benefits, but in his mind he could easily think of dozens of ways to corrupt a system like that, and if occurred that quickly to him, it had probably been thought of by others long ago. He was willing to bet just about anything that there was a whole world under the surface that Jael didn't know about.

As the weeks passed, and Jael helped him rehab, the doctors often came in to check on him to make sure he was progressing and they always seemed pleased. They also seemed to wonder why Jael was spending so much time with this one patient. A few times he caught them asking her if she had other patients to attend to, or they seemed surprised that she was working that day.

The big man didn't mind. The sooner he got out of here, the better he'd feel, and besides, he enjoyed her company and the fact that she was easy to look at didn't hurt matters either.

Finally, the day came when the doctor entered the room and told him he was well enough to leave. "You've made an amazing recovery, faster than we expected."

"I had a good therapist," Jahn Dhoe said, smiling over at Nurse Thracen.

"I know you don't have your memories back, but that's something you'll have to work on from outside the hospital," the doctor informed him. "We can set you up with some therapist appointments in a few minutes but first..." The man in the white coat paused and picked up a stack of paperwork, then looked at Jahn.

"But first, we need to figure out how you're going to settle your bill."

Jahn stumbled into his room and began stripping the dirt and sweat soaked work coveralls from his body, tossing them into the hamper. New sets would be waiting for he and his roommates in the morning. When that was finished, he stumbled into the sanisteam. He stood there for few minutes letting the heat soak into his sore muscles and stared at his hands. They were torn and raw from the brutally hard manual labor he'd been engaged in for the past week. Apparently whatever his former life had involved, it hadn't been manual labor.

Although his muscles were sore, he had really expected them to be much worse. After spending so long in the hospital he had expected them to have atrophied to some extent, but judging by how they seemed to be adapting to the hard work, and the muscled physique he saw in the mirror, he was evidently a firm believer in calisthenics.

When he finally stepped out of the sanisteam, all Jahn really wanted to do was flop on his bunk and sleep, yet that just wasn't on the schedule just yet. It was the weekend, and instead of the usual eleven hour work day that he'd been working for the last seven days, they had only worked seven. Tomorrow it would be the start of the work week again and back to eleven hour days, but for the evening, he had some extra time off, and he had plans.

Jael had invited him over for the evening meal, extensibly to give him a check up and maybe work on trying to get his memory back, but he didn't care much about that at the moment. It would just be nice to relax for a bit and talk.

As he walked out of the barracks and down the street, he kept thinking that someone should be trying to stop him from leaving, but no one seemed to pay any attention. The fact was that it wasn't a prison. There was nothing really from stopping him from leaving, except that they had implanted a sub-dermal tracking device, or at least that's what they told him.

He wasn't sure exactly what to believe. There was such a mixture of high and low technology that it was often confusing. On one hand, all transactions on the planet were conducted through the tracking chips, and debtors couldn't buy a thing for themselves as there was no currency, but on the other hand people in the streets rode horses or drove horse or nerf drawn wagons, or noisy, polluted fossil-fuel powered, motorized vehicles on wheels. There were no air or land speeders, except a few belonging to the uber wealthy.

And everyone carried slug-throwing weapons. Jahn had yet to see a single energy weapon. He couldn't remember specifics, but he was pretty sure none of this would be considered normal wherever he was from.

He finally arrived at the address which Jael had given him over the comm, and it turned out to be an apartment building in a decent neighborhood, yet even here the doors weren't automatic. He looked around for a comm switch, but there was none. Finally he just tried the door and it swung inward with a quick turn of the knob.

In the small foyer he saw a list of last names next to apartment numbers and as he ran his finger down the list, stopping at "Thracen 4F," he caught himself whistling a tune his co-workers were fond of singing. It was some ballad they seemed to sing often; the story of someone named Jayne Cobb.

Apparently sometime in the past someone had tried to stand up to the system, robbing and stealing from the elite only to give it to the debtors. Jahn suspected there was probably a lot of information that the ballad left out, but as of now the song was all that was left of the incident. Still, the tune was not only catchy, but addictive as well.

Jael opened the door to his knock and he was stunned. She seemed even more beautiful than he remembered, even though it had been only a week since he'd seen her. "Oh, man, I missed you," he said a bit breathlessly.

She smiled demurely, then hugged him and gave him a small kiss on his cheek. "It's good to see you too, Jahn."

Supper was already prepared and laid out on the table, and everything smelled delicious. "This smells and tastes so much better than the stuff the Mudders eat," he told her as they began the meal.

"Mudders?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's what the debtors call themselves... I guess it stems from being covered in so much dirt and sweat after a long day," Jahn explained.

They talked quietly throughout the meal, mostly Jahn explaining what he had gone through so far. Finally she commented, "You look to be in pretty good shape for all the poor food and hard work."

"It's getting easier. I think it's this nasty grog they drink... they call it 'Mudder's Milk,'" he told her. "It supposedly has all the protein, vitamins and carbs of your grandma's best tarkle dinner, plus 15 percent alcohol. Tastes like Hell, but it's satisfying and helps you sleep easy."

After supper they sat and talked for a while, sitting together on the couch. She went over some mental exercises that were supposed to help him bring his memory back, but finally he stopped her. "I'm not sure I want my memories back, Jael."

"I'm not sure I want your memories back either."

Jahn pulled her in close and kissed her deeply. When they finally parted, she whispered in his ear. "You don't have to go."

"I don't want to, but I have to," he said sadly. Every fiber told him to stay, but he stood up to leave. "The work day starts early for a Mudder."

She walked him to the door. "I wish I could pay off your debt, Jahn."

"If you tried, you'd only end up in there with me."

The work day did come early, and as usual, the day was hot and dry and the work itself was back-breaking and brutal. They were in the middle of building a large earthen dam, but most of the work was being done by hand.

It was mid-afternoon and Jahn was sweaty and tired. He'd been shoveling dirt all day into wheelbarrows and as one was pushed off to it's destination, the next one was arriving to be filled with little break time in between.

Suddenly a shovelful of dirt hit him square in the back. He paused and looked over at the guy who had tossed it. He was a huge hulk of a man, standing almost 25 to 30 centimeters taller than Jahn and his shoulders were even broader. The man's shirt was tied around his waist and Jahn could see the man's chest and arms had several knife blade scars on them. Exactly how he knew they were from blades, Jahn couldn't say, but he knew what they were. He went back to work deciding that it wasn't worth making an issue of it.

As soon as he did, another shovelful of dirt hit him in the back. "Hey man, watch where you're throwing that," Jahn said and went back to work, only to have a third shovelful hit him. "You dig like an animal," he said.

He stood up and the man had a look in his eyes that Jahn recognized. Instantly he knew this would only end one way.

"Oh, so I'm an animal, eh?" the hulk said to him, throwing the shovel to the ground and heading in Jahn's direction.

"No, I said you dig like one, or do you have dirt in your ears?"

"And I'm deaf too, eh?"

"No, I just think you're too stupid to realize the mistake you're about to make." Jahn didn't know what prompted him to say that, but prepared for what was now inevitable.

The big man swung a long, lazy, looping punch aimed for Jahn's head. Jahn ducked and struck hard and fast, landing two punches into the man's rib cage causing the brute to exhale.

"You hit hard, little-" a fist slammed into the brute's mouth, staggering him. Jahn had no intention of standing around and talking. Instead he followed up with hard blows to the body.

The brute swung a kick for Jahn's groin. He dodged the kick, but not the fist that came after. It caught him on the side of the head, and lights exploded. He shook his head and backed up, trying to clear the cobwebs and focus.

It was the opening the brute was looking for and he moved in swinging away with haymakers and uppercuts. Jahn tried to dodge most of them, but several landed indirectly. Glancing blows they may have been, but they still hurt, and he went down under the onslaught.

The man kicked his ribs and pain shot through him. The big brute reached down and grabbed Jahn by his shirt front, clearly intending to finish this fight once and for all, but something had clicked inside Jahn.

He didn't know what it was, but time seemed to slow down, clarity returned and he felt and exhilarating, raw power surge through his body, re-energizing him.

Jahn sprang to life and to his feet, out of reach of the brute. He began throwing punches. The brute tried to counter, but Jahn was too quick, bobbing and weaving in and out of his reach and under and around blows, all the while landing fist after fist.

Finally he swung his leg, kicking the brute in the side of the knee and sending the beast to the ground. Jahn was on him in an instant, continuing his rain of fierce blows.

Suddenly he felt hands trying to pull him backward, up and off the brute. Jahn allowed them to pick him up, but shook them off when he had made it to his feet.

Jahn stood there over the unconscious body, his fists dripping with the brute's blood and barely recognizing the bloody pulp of flesh that was once the bully's face.

"You nearly killed him," a voice came from the silent crowd that had gathered, stunned to silence by the violence they had just witnessed.

"No... I didn't do that," Jahn said, breathing hard as his senses started to return to normal. "The foolish and the weak will always find a way to destroy themselves."

Suddenly the crowd parted and a pudgy man dressed richly, escorted by two big men made their way toward Jahn.

"That was quite an impressive display of skill... Jahn Dhoe, is it?" the pudgy rich man asked.

"Who're you?" Jahn asked. Somehow he knew he'd regret the answer.

"Why, my name is Eli Dipsatch... and I'm the guy who just paid off your debt."

The wealthy man hadn't been lying. Minutes after he had shown up and left, one of the officers approached and told Jahn to return to his bunk. At first, Jahn thought that it was a trick, and waited in his bunk for the local law enforcement to show up and take him away to a real jail. Instead, an official showed up with papers to sign (he was not given a choice) that released him from his debt to the government and put him in debt to one Eli Dipsatch.

After being taken to his new 'home', Jahn's new reality was explained bluntly to him. Mr. Dipsatch had bought him so that he could be used for entertainment and gambling.

Now, here he sat, several weeks later, trying to mentally prepare himself for yet another fight. He imagined it would be easier without the muted noise of the crowd chanting and yelling for the fights going on in the dirt arena just down the hall. Of course, Jael's constant prodding his various wounds and asking him how they felt wasn't helping either.

Finally she gave up, frustrated by his silence. "This is insanity Jahn." She threw her hands up in the air. "Five weeks, and you've been put into eight fights already. It has to stop." She waited for a response, but only got a raised eyebrow. "I know we've talked about it, and I don't really have any experience with this sort of thing... but I've done some checking. There's a lot of talk about you around town, Jahn. Because nobody's been put through the sort of thing you are now."

"This is my out." Jahn finally opened his eyes. "I'm paying down my debt faster than any of the mudders can dream, and in time I'll be done with Dipsatch and his games. Whatever training or experience I had in my past, it's giving me the edge I need to get out of this."

"Whatever training you may have had in the past is no better than instinct now, and soon enough that may not be enough. That same instinct is what's causing them to raise the odds against you each time and move the fights closer and closer to keep the bets coming in." She sat down next to him, and grabbed his hand.

When he turned and met her eyes, she pleaded. "They're trying to find your breaking point, Jahn. Everyone has a breaking point, regardless of how special they may be."

"What choice do I have? I..." Jahn started, only to stop as the door handle turned and Eli Dipsatch entered. He was wearing one of his finer black suits, though it fit tightly around his midsection. He also wore a black cape with red underlining that he seemed to think had a slimming effect, though it didn't.

"Jahn! How's my favorite fighter doing tonight?" The large man laughed. "I'm kidding... of course you're doing great! Everyone's doing great... especially my banker!" He continued to laugh.

Jahn could see Jael steeling herself to confront Eli for the man she was growing to love. He glared at her, hoping to keep her from getting herself into a predicament that neither of them could handle. "Mr. Dipsatch, sir... please listen to me..."

"Yes, yes of course dear." Eli interrupted. "There will be plenty of time to chat later. Now, it's time for our boy Jahn here to go into the preparation room."

Jael started to try again, but Eli wouldn't have any of it, interrupting before she could get more than a word out of her mouth. "Now, now... don't you worry. A lovely woman such as yourself belongs in the best seats in the arena with me. Come along, and I'll get you a drink."

He waved for her to follow him as he turned and left the room.

Jael shook her head. She was furious, but she did her best to control herself. Her being upset was the last thing that she wanted Jahn to think about while he was out there, facing what ever ridiculous match Eli had set up for him. Instead, she needed him to be thinking positive and to the time they'd be able to spend together after the fight. She always took care of him after the fights.

"Oh well." She admitted. "Even if we could convince him, there was no chance in space that he'd postpone a match he already had set up and with wagers placed."

She turned to face him directly and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a desperate kiss. "You take care of yourself out there. If you could somehow get those instincts to kick in before you've taken a massive beating for once, I could spend less time cleaning you up... and more time getting dirty." She winked at him and gave him another kiss before leaving him to go get ready.

Jahn stepped out into the dirt arena to the raucous mixture of cheers and jeers so loud that he could not distinguish them. With a loud clack, the spotlights cranked on him, and he could no longer make out the crowd, but he was familiar enough with the setup by now. Beyond the lights was glass barricades that the fighters wouldn't be able to break through with any of the objects that they may have in the fight.

He looked straight forward and up as he tightened the protective cloth wraps he had around his hands. He knew that the luxury box was up there, and that was where Jael would be now, with his boss. She'd be relatively safe up there from the mob of violence crazed individuals who wasted their money on guessing how much of a beating he and others could take. Hopefully the money he'd made Dipsatch would help protect Jael from the wandering eyes of some of his unsavory friends as well.

One more reason to make this quick, if he could.

The rest of the spot lights turned on, signalling Jahn that his contest was about to begin. As expected, two large men entered through the second entrance. They were both quite a bit larger than he was, but no bigger than his previous opponents. He seemed to be getting the largest the planet had to offer, though it was possible that larger fighters had come and gone. He'd heard the shelf life was pretty short for this profession.

Then a third figure stepped out into the light, slightly larger than even the other two. He carried with him three swords, and he unceremoniously handed one to each of the other men. Jahn had faced others with weapons before... but rocks or blunt objects, not swords. Eli really was upping the ante this time.

Then Jahn noticed something else. The third man to enter was limping a bit. It took a few more seconds for recognition to hit him. The man who brought the swords in was the same man who had attacked him back when he was still a mudder, securing his release to Eli.

The man had likely asked for a chance at redemption, or he simply wanted revenge. It didn't matter to Jahn though, and as soon as the men were in striking distance, he launched his attack.

The large man was starting to say something, likely a taunt, but he didn't get much of it out as Jahn swept to flank them. By attacking them from the left, he put one of the men in between himself and the others, buying himself at least a second where he did not have to worry about the other two.

A quick punch to the face of the man on the left struck before he could prepare himself at all. It was followed with a few quick punches to the midsection while the man struggled to keep his balance. As the other two began to circle around, Jahn had to take his real shot.

A strike to the wrist currently holding the sword caused it to fall to the ground, and a hard hit to the face caused the man to finally stagger back and fall.

It was too late though, as an attempt to reach for the sword would have exposed Jahn to attacks from either side, and he couldn't take the chance against blades like these. Reluctantly, he backed away.

The large man was talking again, but Jahn couldn't hear him over his own thoughts. He was desperately trying to figure out how to stay alive. He tried to swing around quickly to flank one of them again, but they were prepared for it and would not allow it.

It didn't take long for him to be facing all three men again. He was wildly dodging and ducking under their lazy swings, but he knew it was only a matter of time before one of the managed to connect, and things would go downhill from there if that happened.

In his previous matches, he had started out well enough, but ultimately only took full control of the fight when things began looking rather bleak for him. For some reason, his training and experience from his former life only returned when he was under extreme duress, and Jael was right after all... he couldn't afford to wait for those instincts to kick in for him in this fight.

And then it happened. The cold metal bit into his right arm and while he tried to hold in his scream, he failed.

He was barely able to move out of the way of the next few swings, but his opponents gained confidence in seeing the flow of blood down his arm. His left arm took a glancing blow and also began to bleed.

Rather than finish him quickly, they began toying with him. No matter which way he moved or how he tried to get some space to recover, he was met quickly with blows from the hilts of the swords.

His vision began to go, and everything became fuzzy. He may have passed out. He wasn't sure, yet somehow he ended up restrained from behind by one of the men, while the poke in the chest from the tip of a blade brought his head back around.

Now he could hear the taunts from the large man. "Poor little man isn't so good against blades, is he?"

Jahn wasn't sure when he had been struck in the mouth, but he spat blood back in response. "Pitiful big man isn't so good with fair fights, is he?"

The man ignored him. "I think I know how you became so ugly, little man." He placed his blade over the scar that ran down from his hairline through his eye.

Something in Jahn broke, and he felt anger that he hadn't ever felt before. He yelled again, and the man who was restraining him was blown backwards from him inexplicably.

The large man took a step back in shock, his mouth open with confusion. Jahn turned to the third fighter to his right and punched him square in his sternum. There was a sickening crunch and the body flew meters away.

Jahn stretched his hand towards the large man, who had no more taunts for him. Once again, it was as though he wasn't in control of his own body or mind, he just did things. The man began floating into the air, grasping at his throat.

There was a loud buzz that deafened the arena, to signal the end of the fight. All it did to Jahn though was cover the sound of a spine being crushed before the body fell to the ground lifeless.

Jael entered his prep room first. He could somehow feel that she was happy he was ok, but it was hidden behind concern for his wounds and whatever else had taken over him in the ring.

Eli Dipsatch followed only seconds after. "Well, Jahn... I think I may have to find another way to take advantage of your... skills." There was a bit of concern on his face as well, though it was more likely tied to the end of a high revenue fight ticket. "Nobody will likely bet against you again." He flashed a smile, as cheesy and fake as Jahn had ever seen.

Eli Dipsatch had been right. No one would fight him, no matter the odds. One man had died in the ring. A second had died after the fight from the crushing blow he had taken to the sternum, and the third man had slammed so hard into the unbreakable glass that his spine had snapped, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. No one wanted a piece of a man who could do that.

A funny thing had happened though, and Eli had actually come clean about his part: Jahn Dhoe was supposed to have lost that last fight almost 8 weeks ago.

Despite going up against 3 men, Jahn had been favored in the odds. The movers and shakers in Vondume's underground world of pit fighting had all been betting against Jahn, for only they knew his opponents would have weapons.

Even Eli had bet against Jahn. Except the runner who had placed the bet had screwed up. He had accidentally bet on Jahn.

When the fight was over, Eli Dipsatch not only came out the big winner, but half the criminal scum on Vondume owed him vast sums of money, leaving Dipsatch one of the most powerful men on the planet. He had been so ecstatic about it he had made the former Mudder his personal bodyguard.

The job didn't pay nearly as well as the pit fighting had, but it was still better than being a Mudder. The only problem was that for the first time, Jahn was able to see the full underbelly of the planet, and he found out that despite the back breaking work, the mudders were the fortunate ones.

Initially he had assumed that debtors were treated like prisoners here on Vondume. He was wrong. Debtors were nothing but slaves and slave labor. Men like Dipsatch traded debtors like currency, then kept them in hovels doing menial tasks and back-breaking jobs while providing just enough food and shelter to keep the debtors alive.

The entire subject happened to be the topic of conversation between Jael and himself. "I don't see how you can stand there and watch Dipsatch treat these people this way, Jahn," she told him. They had just finished supper in his quarters.

The apartment was provided to him by Dipsatch, and since his employer wanted him close at all times, it was right down the hall from the penthouse suite in one of the upscale apartment buildings in the city center. It was posh and it had a great view.

Jahn walked out onto the spacious balcony. He needed some air. "I don't know what you want me to do, Jael. I don't like Dipsatch either, but there's nothing I can do about it right now."

The beautiful dark-skinned woman had followed the big man outside. She stepped up and put her hands on his chest, shaking her head. "That's not true, Jahn. You can use your powers to stop him. You have them for a reason. I refuse to believe that you have this amazing gift and can only use it to protect a man like Dipsatch."

"Jael, I love you, but these people... they did this to themselves... it's their own fault they're debtors and I don't see why I should care," Jahn said, turning away from Jael and refusing to meet her eyes.

"If you don't care, then maybe you're not the man I thought you were."

They stood silently for a long time. Jahn thought he was preparing himself for her decision to leave him, but what she said next caught him by surprise.

"Jahn... They fired me from the Hospital."

It was such a non sequitur that it took a moment to comprehend. "Why would they do that?"

"Because of you... because of the company you keep," she said. "They told me they don't want employees hanging around unsavory people like your boss. They wanted me to stop seeing you. I told them to walk on."

"And they let you go?" Jahn asked. "No problem. You'll get another job soon."

"You don't understand... all my educational loans came due the instant I was unemployed," she told him.

Jahn Dhoe flung open the doors and marched into Eli Dipsatch's office, Jael Thracen two steps behind. "I need a favor, boss."

Dipsatch leaned back in his oversized nerf-hide chair and stuck a cigarra in his mouth, it's acrid smoke rising and encircling his head, making him look almost comical. "Oh, I know what you're going to say, Jahn."

Jahn cocked his head slightly. "You do?"

"Oh yes, and I'm way ahead of you," the pudgy man got up and walked around the big wooden desk. He stopped in front of Jael and eyed her up and down.

Neither Jahn nor Jael liked the famished look in his eye, and she slid her hand in his as if it could hide her from his leering.

"Yes, your little girlfriend became a debtor today. Oh, don't look surprised. I keep my eye on the lists for interesting names," he explained. Dipsatch then looked up at the big bodyguard. "Don't think I haven't noticed your disapproving looks as of late.

Dipsatch stepped toward Jael and ran his fingers down her bare arm. She cringed at the touch. "Yes, I already saved her from the Mudders for you."

"I guess... uh... thanks?" Jahn said.

Don't thank me yet, Jahn," Dipsatch said. "She doesn't get a free pass. Not yet, anyway. For now, she's going to be my little insurance policy to ensure you stay loyal to me."

"No," Jahn said so quietly only he could hear it. Realization was beginning to dawn on him. His jaw clenched and he began slowly shaking his head, revulsion and rage beginning to take over.

"She's going to be working at the Teegar House," Dipsatch explained further. There was no mistaking the look on his face as he stared at Jael.

"No!" Jahn shouted through clenched teeth. He could feel the anger burning inside him like a fire.

Dipsatch went on in a conspiratorial whisper, seemingly oblivious to Jahn's state. "I always check out the new girls to make sure they're up to standards."

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Jahn shot his hand forward, and bluish purple bolts of electricity shot from his hands, surging through the pudgy man. Dipsatch was blown backwards across the desk and into the wall as Jahn walked toward him, continuing to scream in rage, all the while pouring more energy and rage into the writhing, charring bulk of flesh.

When he finally stopped, little remained of former boss beyond a smoking, stinking pile of burned organic matter.

Jahn turned around to see Jael staring at him with a mix of awe, horror and admiration.

"You wanted me to do something about the debtors? Well, this is the start," he said, his jaw set in determination. "Will you stick by me through the end of this?"

"I will," she said, running to him and wrapping her arms around him. She looked up into his eyes. "I love you, Jahn Dhoe."

"Then will you marry me?"

"I will."

Jahn Dhoe looked behind him to the squad that was following him down the street. All were armed with automatic slug-firing rifles, carbines or pistols along with any other weapons they had been able to come up with. All around them the deserted city streets were littered with debris and burned out hulks of ground cars. The opposition had been fierce, the the debtors and mudders that were with him had managed to drive the Vondumian Judicial Forces back. The sheer numbers were just too many for the small army to handle.

Jahn himself carried a slug-throwing pistol in a holster strapped to his left thigh, but in his right hand he carried an unsheathed vibro-sword. Since he had found it in Eli Dipsatch private cache of weapons, he had somehow felt more comfortable with the hilt than with a gun stock. He hefted it, comforted by its balance and weight.

"Commander, we're nearing our target... another few blocks and we'll be home free," the man standing next to him holding a paper map and an assault carbine told him.

"Thank you, Dael," Jahn replied. Suddenly he had a bad feeling and spoke louder so all his men could hear him. "Keep your eyes open for hostiles."

Gunfire broke out to their right. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, yet leaving him free to move. The big man sidestepped the incoming flight path of the projectiles, then pushed Dael out of the way of another. He watched as his team began diving for cover, but saw they weren't going to make it.

He acted on instinct. Moving toward the slugs he began weaving his way into the barrage and using his vibro-sword to deflect their paths. It took only moments, but Jahn's squad made it to cover and began to return fire.

Rage coursed through his body, infusing him with the raw power that seemed to energize him and fuel his supernatural abilities. Instead of taking cover with his men and women, he charged toward the snipers, using the Power to enhance his movements.

Over the last few weeks since he had killed Dipsatch and taken over the pudgy man's criminal empire, his ability to call on the Power became almost second nature and although it still worked best when he didn't think, but let it come instinctually instead.

It was a good thing too because Eli Dipsatch's captains and lieutenants took a bit of convincing at first. Jahn had only to kill a few of them in the presence of their cohorts for them to warm up to the idea of freeing the debtors. Soon Jahn Dhoe had put Dipsatch's entire criminal network to good use, contacting and organizing the mudders and other debtors, some of whom were treated in atrocious manner, kept in squalor and filth and fed just enough to keep them working at mass production jobs, sewing or operating huge machinery in poor working conditions.

Once the idea caught hold, it had spread like wildfire and the debtors had rallied to Jahn.

The government had also responded quickly, but in a different manner, sending in their Judicial troops to try to enforce the law and return the debtors to their jobs.

The confrontations had quickly escalated to violence as Jahn publicly promised that he'd crush the existing government and bring forth justice whether they liked it or not.

Rumor had it that the debtors had begun referring to their champion as "King Jahn," and his bride, "Queen Jael." The newly weds laughed about it in the little time they had together. "When this is all over we'll get away for a while, just you and I, your Majesty," Jahn had promised her, and they both laughed.

At the moment, Jahn had more perilous things to worry about. His crew covered him as he sprinted across the intersection toward and over turned ground car. The gunfire was coming from behind it.

When he was still several meters out, Jahn launched himself into the air using the Power to propel his body higher than even he had thought possible. In the air, he twisted himself and landed in a crouch, his sword held wide at the ready.

The shocked looks on the faces of the three Judicials told him this was not what they had expected. To confirm it, they dropped their weapons. "We surrender," one of them said as the others nodded.

"Very well," Jahn said, then ended their lives with three lightning quick slashes.

He reached down and grabbed a scarf from the neck of one of them and wiped his blade clean. "Should have thought about that before you started shooting at me," he said under his breath.

His squad moved up to his position and saw the bodies. Dael looked at his commander. "Sir, I've never seen anything like that... I mean, you _deflected those slugs_ then jumped the ground car. I simply can't believe it... and I saw it with my own eyes." The rest of the squad nodded in agreement.

Jahn didn't answer. He was already thinking about what was to come. They had to move quickly if they wanted to take the Prime Minister's Palace. Currently, all that stood between them and the end of this coup was the lightly armed Judicial foot soldiers and troopers they had been dealing with.

That wasn't the problem. They could handle the troopers. The debtors vastly outnumbered the judicials and had been making steady progress across the city in squads of ten to fifteen, all taking different routes, forcing the Judicials to split up and defend and there just wasn't enough of them to do it.

What Jahn was worried about was the intel rumors which said the Vondumian Elite Troopers had been summoned. They were heavily armed and well trained and if they were to get into place before Jahn and his troops could take the Palace then their chances of success would be slim indeed.

They pushed the opposition back several more blocks before they were proven right. The rumblings of mechanical warfare machines around the corner of the street were unmistakable. Jahn turned to his makeshift army and signaled for them to fall back while he and his leadership group ducked into a building to discuss the turn of events.

"We're mud." Dael cursed.

They had known this was a possibility, but it was a measured chance they were willing to take. The rumors surrounding the Vondumian Elite Troopers were varied and often bordered on fantasy. The pieces of the stories that they figured were as good as fact were that the equipment and supplies were nearly always kept in a very secret and safe location when not in use for training, and that their technology was so far beyond the normal bounds of the planet that they would destroy any conventional force. They had hoped that the government hadn't taken their movement seriously, and a surprise assault would not allow time for the Elite Troopers to assemble.

"I did not come this far to turn back." Jahn growled.

Dael sat down on the ground and began checking his weapon. "What choice do we have? If we continue, your powers will probably allow you to survive, like they helped you survive your crash. The rest of us will most certainly be killed, and not even you can enforce your will on the entire government with nobody left supporting you."

Jahn merely kneeled on the ground and closed his eyes, attempting to concentrate on his options. Dael nearly continued his rant, but decided instead to wait it out.

Finally, Jahn opened his eyes and spoke. "We talk to them. Ask them to surrender or leave as others have." Sensing the unease of his group, he cut them off. "I usually get a feeling of danger when it's near. Right now, I'm not getting that feeling. Besides, if all the stories are true, they could simply blow this wall down and kill us while we sit here."

He sheathed his sword and walked out of the building with his hands in the air before any protests could convince him to change his mind.

After being escorted for nearly half a click, he could easily confirm that there was enough firepower arrayed against them that they would be crushed. He was told to stand and wait while the unit commander was called over.

A man approached on an armored quadrupedal animal, wearing his own armor and a holster that blinked the readiness of his energy weapon. "Jahn, is it?"

Jahn nodded.

"Come to surrender?"

He shook his head. "I've come to collect your surrender. We're here to crush all those in our way. There's been enough of your people lost already."

The commander laughed. "Not my people, I assure you."

Jahn shrugged. "Regardless, we won't be stopped until our goal is achieved."

"Don't be foolish. What is your goal?"

"Freedom. We'll take it however we have to."

The commander stared at him as though he was trying to read his thoughts or even his soul. "Obviously, we cannot surrender to you. We have our duty to protect the government and the society as a whole."

Jahn's muscles rippled as he tensed in preparation for an attack.

"I offer an alternative." The commander held up a hand as if it would calm Jahn. "Allow us to pledge our allegiance to your fealty as the new King of VonDume. We will serve you as the rightful ruler of the planet, and do what is best for the citizens here as well."

Jahn scoffed. "I have no interest in being 'King'. That was a nickname perpetrated by others, not I."

"Then we have a quandary. I think you seem intelligent enough to understand that you cannot affect real change by simply killing those in power. If that even served you to your goal, how long would it last? No. The only way to truly fix the problem at hand is to revive the monarchy and have one deserving ruler in place to make all the right choices for our people."

Jahn was confused, but he tried not to show it. The support the Elite seemed to be offering would guarantee his success, but he had no desire to 'lead' this backwater planet and make decisions about what color to paint the sidewalks or whether to clean the gutters twice or three times a week. He still believed that his destiny was beyond the scope of this pitiful place. He regained eye contact with the Commander. "Why?"

"Let me tell you a story. It's a simple story, but understand it's only one example of a widespread problem that many if not all of my men can attest to."

Then he did. He told the story of his brother Dahn who had fallen into a rather minor debt and was working it off. It took a few years, which was not long compared to most, but greatly outweighed his original offense. He was a hard and valuable worker. He was months away from earning freedom when he was in an 'accident' that only he and the foreman were witness to. His debt was now triple his original charge, and with interest, he would likely only see freedom at the end of his life, if then.

Jahn understood. It was indeed a quandary, as the man had put it.

Jahn Dhoe strode into the Prime Minister's Palace and trailing slightly to either side was Dael and General Rizen of the Elite Troopers. Their boots echoed loudly of the marble flooring as they strode purposefully down that expanse of the Great Hall.

From the other end, a middle-aged human dressed in business clothes came toward them, his hands folded in front of him.

"That's Prime Minister Zrabeth," Dael whispered just loud enough for Jahn to hear.

When they were still several meters away, Zrabeth dropped to one knee. "Your Majesty, please don't see me as a threat. I fully recognize your..."

"Get up," Jahn interrupted him. "I see you're buying into the whole, 'king' thing as well."

"Absolutely," Zrabeth said, misunderstanding as he got to his feet, "and I can be of valuable assistance to you. I can provide counsel on governing and insight into policy and diplomacy. I'll even go and broadcast my support to the entire planet right now."

Jahn stood silently, pondering. Finally he spoke. "I've considered what you have to say, and it has merit."

A relieved look came across Zrabeth's face.

In the blink of an eye, Jahn drew his sword and sliced the former Prime Minister in two.

Dael stared in disbelief. "What in the stars did you do that for? I thought he was going to help you!"

"If I'm going to be king, then there can be no threat to my throne," Jahn explained. "And as long as he lived, there'd sure enough be some jackwagon who would want to put him back in power." He looked at the other two men, waiting for them to challenge what he'd said, but they both nodded their heads. Agree with how he handled it or not, the reasoning was sound and both of them knew it.

The big man with the scar wiped his blade clean and sheathed the weapon. He walked off to one side and pulled out his comm unit, punching in Jael's code back at headquarters.

Since this whole thing had begun, they hadn't had much time together. In fact, they'd been so busy that, other than their wedding, they'd barely spent much time together alone. He planned to rectify that soon.

"Jahn, is that you?" came the sweet sound of her voice on the other end of the link. "Are you alright? How'd it go?... Is it over?" She blurted out the questions in rapid succession.

Jahn smiled. "My Love, let's just say that tonight, you and I will have a proper wedding night in the Prime Minister's... the King's Palace."

"You know the answer to that. I hate this. It's ridiculous, and I never wanted any part of it."

Hoping to get him to open up to her, she probed him a little more. "Still, you don't think you may have overreacted a bit?"

Minutes earlier, a small dispute between two women had come to him for a decision over a baby. There had been a storm, and one baby had died, both women laid claim to the surviving child. Jahn approached them with his favorite sword, and told them the logical solution was to cut the baby in two, and give both a half. One of the 'mothers' immediately cried out against the idea and said she'd give it up. Jahn had cut the other 'mother', who had hesitated to protest the idea, from hip to shoulder.

"The child thief?" Jahn laughed, before catching the look Jael was giving him. "It was better than she deserved."

"Perhaps." Jael nodded. "She was overtaken with grief at the loss of her own child though, and was not herself."

"That doesn't matter. It's not the point anyway." Raezyr stood from his chair, throwing down his sword. "Ruling this place is such a drain of energy, and with no point to it. Yes, I know I agreed to it and it was the only way to achieve our goals." He began to pace. "I never expected that part of my 'duty' would be to decide the color of sidewalk paint, or the proper width for entryways into the constable building."

Jael stood and approached him, lightly draping herself on his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek, praying he would begin to calm down. "And per your orders, they are working on solutions to weed out some of the more menial tasks. It was you who insisted we start from scratch, leaving nothing of the corrupt government behind."

"Even the King can make flawed decisions." Jahn sighed.

Jael pulled his shoulder to turn him to face her, and had just begun to kiss him deeply when the doors to the throne room were thrown open and a servant came running in, clearly under distress.

"Your majesty, there's two men here who..."

The doors opened again, this time thrown from their holdings entirely, clanging off the floor as they bounced across the room.

Two men stood at the doorway, both wearing all black. One was diminutive, wearing a dark mask with blinking lights on his forearms and torso, and no flesh showing. The other was taller, though a few centimeters shorter than Jahn. His face was showing, though covered in the shadows of his cloak's hood.

Two of the elite guards tried to attack the men from behind. The taller man spun and blocked the shots of energy from the advanced weapons with some sort of energy sword. One of the guards was struck by his own shot, the other seemed to trip over his own feet and fall unconscious. The intruders stood at the ready for a moment, ready for another attack, but none came.

Jahn swept his sword up off the floor and pushed Jael behind him in single fluid movement. He didn't know if his metal sword would stand up to that 'laser sword' the taller intruder was wielding, but he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"Who are you?" Jahn bellowed. "I'd like to know what names to put on your graves."

The two men straightened up, and the taller of the two shut off his weapon. "Um, wouldn't you like to know what we're doing here?" he said, clipping the metal cylinder to his belt.

"I assume you're assassins come to kill the King of Vondume," Jahn replied walking slowly forward, sword held ready. "Except I don't plan to die today."

"Put that thing down... it wouldn't do you any good anyway," the stranger said, chuckling.

Somehow Jahn knew he was telling the truth, and he eased his stance a bit, but still wary. "What do you want?" he asked quizzically.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" the intruder said as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before.

General Rizen suddenly burst in with a squad of troops, energy weapons leveled at the two intruders. Instantly their blades were ignited and at the ready.

"Stand down!" Jahn yelled. Somehow he knew that Rizen would pose no more threat to the strangers than the two guards had just a minute ago.

"Your Majesty?" Rizen questioned. He and his men stood their ground, weapons still leveled.

"Rizen, just do as I say," Jahn told him. "Put away your weapons and stand down."

"As you wish, Sire,"

When they had done as he asked, the strangers lowered their weapons as well. "You know, I came here to rescue you, but I should have known better. Even with amnesia, you took over the planet like a good Sith should," the tall intruder chuckled.

Jael came up behind Jahn and put her hands on his shoulder. "Jahn... what's going on?"

Suddenly it was all clear. Like a wave crashing down, clarity came rushing back. The king put his hand to his head, feeling his scar and then running his hand through his black hair. He turned and looked his wife in the eyes. "Jael... meet your brother-in-law, Trychon."

The black masked Darth Invictus had already boarded the ship, getting it prepped for departure when Trychon shook hands and said his goodbyes, leaving Raezyr at the dock with Queen Jael, General Rizen and Commander Dael.

"Jahn..." she said and paused. "You know I'll never think of you as this 'Lord Raezyr' person, right?" She went on after Raezyr nodded. "Why can't you stay?"

The Sith warrior shook his head. "It's like I've told you all along. I wasn't meant for this. Everything I did here, I did for you. Every decision I made was one I made after listening to your suggestion. You did this. It's yours. This is what you were meant for." He bent down and kissed her lips. "I love you, Jael. I will return."

She stepped back from him. "I know."

Raezyr turned to Rizen and Dael. "Protect her. Protect the crown."

They saluted simultaneously. "By your command," they said in unison.

With a last look at his wife, the big Sith turned and boarded the ship.

Within a minute he had taken his seat in the cockpit with Trychon and Invictus.

"So," Trychon said after several minutes of silence. "You went and got married, and I didn't even get invited to the wedding."

"Shut up, Trych," Raezyr responded dourly.

His brother chuckled, then he looked over slyly. "I'm fine with that answer, but what's Di gonna say?"

"As always, what she doesn't know isn't gonna kill her... besides, we haven't seen her in years," Raezyr said as he stared out the wind screen, watching the Vondumian skies turn from blue to black as they broke atmosphere. "I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever see her again."

"That's just it, Raez," Trychon told him. "Di showed up a few weeks ago."

Raezyr turned and looked, almost in disbelief.

"She needs our help."


End file.
